


Lullaby Of War

by laissemoidanser



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Cousin Incest, M/M, Secret Relationship, Top Zagreus (Hades Video Game), spoilers for the game plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28452414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laissemoidanser/pseuds/laissemoidanser
Summary: Zagreus' mother is back in the Underworld. The prospect of reaching Olympus seems impossible for now and, frankly, not as appealing anymore.Still Zagreus keeps fighting his way up to the surface relentlessly under the pretext that he simply has to, not to rouse the suspicion of Olympian Gods. The true reason for his never-ending escapes - is rather different.
Relationships: Ares/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	Lullaby Of War

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write my semester project and 5 minutes later I was writing this :D  
> Just needed to process my love for these two.  
> It's kind of sappy and I guess I have a bit different take on Ares.

***

On the surface the day is in decline and the sun is blooming at the line of horizon like a wild exotic flower. Light pours from it in all directions, meeting no clouds in its way. It reaches the place where goddess Persephone used to reside not so long ago. Her little cosy cottage and the garden glow in richness of the warm sunrays, just as flourishing as when she left it. Everything here is protected by her powers, preserved forever in case one day she decides to come back.

Life is busy here even in her absence, ever spurred on by the tireless whisper of the river Styx that surrounds it protectively. Down, down streams the river, zigzagging around the caves and meadows and coppices until, suddenly, its waters go quiet, slow down. Everything goes quiet here together with it, no sounds of bird singing can be heard, no rustling of foliage on the trees. Even the wind abates, as if stopped by a powerful presence. A presence of a god.

The quiet rules around a mysterious pavilion that seems to be floating in the air, hanging above the water surface but never touching it. Even in the splendid light of dusk it is glowing brightly – in red. Red flickers are dancing on the water below it like tiny droplets of blood.

Inside the pavilion is quite small, open. There’s a couple of stands in it, an altar of sorts and a bed with rich engravings. The altar is almost completely occupied with pieces of armor, a huge gold helmet and pauldrons, dark steel spreading out of them like deadly wings. There is the Stygian Blade forgotten on the floor together with two tunics, one red and the other pristine white.

The arch of the pavilion echoes with gentle silky laughter. Zagreus presses closer, reacting to the sweet soft sound he’s still not used to hearing. He savors it, catches it on War God’s sensual lips which are slightly swollen from their long lovemaking.

Strong thighs seize his waist possessively, keep him in place. The heat is tight and all-consuming. Steel muscles could snap his bones so easily, if only such was _his_ whim but instead Zagreus can feel them tremble ever so slightly under the soft skin. He’s gently urged closer, deeper. 

‘You’re so good to me, my dear kin,’ Ares huffs out as their lips part. 

His scarlet gaze is heavy-lidded, lustful, his strong hands are gripping Zagreus from behind, guiding, establishing the pace with which the prince shall move to please the god beneath him. 

‘Just like that.’

With yet another deep thrust Zagreus finds the angle that he was looking for, brushing that secret spot inside that takes Ares’ breath away, urging him to throw his head back onto the pillow and moan, open-mouthed and shameless. Lost in pure pleasure. It’s the most beautiful sight Zagreus ever witnessed. 

Never breaking the approved pace he bends down and plants hungry open-mouthed kisses along the strong column of the god’s neck, the bobbing adam’s apple, tasting salty skin, trailing down, to the soft, delicate, almost fragile spot between Ares’ collarbones, exposed to him so trustingly.

In moments like this he still can hardly believe this is all really happening, that he is not dreaming this, not thinking it up. That it is really the War God himself, the fierce and untamed, the unconquered one, offering himself to him willingly. Giving himself in ways no one got to know him before. It fills Zagreus with thrill, with pride, with maddening heat of love and desire - cursing in his veins in waves, with such loud speed he’s sure, up on the Olympus, Aphrodite herself can hear. 

‘Ask me,’ he whispers into Ares ear, heat blooming in his lower belly, ready to burst any second now, his body moving on its own, in need to get deeper, deeper, taking, _taking again, again, again_...

‘Tell me you want it.’

‘I want it,’ the answer follows, flows into him in a ravishing whisper, yet rattles him like thunderous battle cry of thousands of warriors, moments before they charge for a kill. 

‘I want you so much. _My Zagreus_.’

The sound of his own name, caressed with need, in yielding, finishes him off, violently like a bullet exploded inside him. With a strained cry he finds his release, buried deep inside the god’s body. Ares follows shortly, muscles clumping down on him like iron, getting more and more out of him until he is spent and oversensitive. 

He pulls away reluctantly, plants a kiss to a smooth dark-skinned shoulder covered with a fine sheen of sweat. His eyelids grow heavy with fatigue, the hours they spent here loving each other finally taking their toll on him. Or maybe the approaching death, still distant but inevitable as ever. He purges the thought. It doesn’t matter now. Not in this moment. _Not with him._

He flickers his gaze up to see Ares, on his side now, scarlet eyes watching him, observing, gaze surprisingly tender, not a single sign of tiredness or breathlessness on him. A god. He looks older without his usual war paint. But that also makes him more real, so handsome. 

‘I wish I could last longer,’ Zagreus says, pouting, almost hating himself for being so weak, so small, not enough…

‘Such nonsense you speak, my good kin,’ Ares says, one corner of his lips quirks up in a smile, the rarest, kindest one he grants only to those he chooses to care about. ‘The way you loved me today I will never forget, I think. Like all the times before that. And all the times that are yet to come.’

His large hand with beautifully prominent tendons closes over Zagreus, smaller one, their calloused fingers intertwine. He then brings Zagreus’ hand up to his lips and kisses the knuckles tenderly. So gentlemanly. The gesture makes Zagreus smile too, the fleeting moment of sadness forgotten.

‘I’ll fight my way back, again and again, as long as it takes, to see you again,’ he promises. 

Ares’ smile deepens, he nods in content, pleased. 

‘I know,’ he says. ‘And I shall provide you with the best instruments of death so you can get back to me swiftly. We shall walk that battlefield hand in hand for I care about your victory, my hell-born kin.’

He leans down and plants a feathery kiss to Zagreus’ temple, soft lips catching his pulse that still beats madly in the aftermath. 

‘I care a lot about you,’ Ares whispers with so much feeling it makes Zagreus heart melt. It’s the closest to _‘I love you’_ he could imagine. In many ways it’s so much better than a _‘I love you.’_ Love is a notion too fleeting for those who live eternal life. Zagreus might be considered a young god still, but he already understands the concept.

‘Now come here,’ Ares motions for him and he scoots closer, arranges himself over the god’s broad muscular chest. Zagreus rests his cheek against it and closes his eyes, inhaling the sweet scent of him. 

‘Sleep. I shall watch over you. Until it takes you.’ 

Zagreus chuckles. Plants a tired kiss against the hot smooth skin.

‘You love to watch me die, don’t you?’ 

‘Ah not as much as I love watching you fight and come back to me triumphant. Not as much as this here…’

Zagreus presses closer to him.

Ares cards his fingers through Zagreus’ hair, gently combs it and brushes it away from Zagreus’ face. He caresses his shoulders, his back. Eventually the young prince slips into darkness, never knowing, never feeling when the river Styx takes him again. The only thing he feels are sweet caresses of his favorite god and the whispered words _‘I care a lot about you’_ , etched upon his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
